


a man of his word

by kimeric



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: M/M, missing scene episode 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 05:59:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17892833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimeric/pseuds/kimeric
Summary: He could control the impulse if he wanted to. He doesn't.





	a man of his word

"Unless you prefer Captain Georgiu?"

The admiral shoots that down fast, like Leland knew she would, but what surprises him is Pike's reaction: flat out refusal from a former fan. Then again, their stint at the Academy is decades out of date and people change.

"Leland."

Admiral Cornwell is gone, the faint, residual hum of the transporter fading into silence. He's been expecting another swift on its heels. They've assessed the damage, exchanged a few verbal jabs, and planted the seeds of future cooperation; there's nothing more to say.

Chris must feel differently. He's waiting in Leland's ready room, leaning against the bulkhead, hands behind his back. A little more louche than parade rest, not quite slouching.

"Thought you'd be eager to get back to your ship," Leland says, stepping inside. The hiss of the sliding doors behind him is automatic, reassuring. He briefly considers the possibility that Georgiu could have hacked more than his firewall, then dismisses it. She's slippery, not suicidal.

"Discovery is undergoing repairs. I have a few minutes to catch up."

While he's busy worrying about vipers, Leland nearly forgets to keep an eye out for menaces with loftier ambitions. Like the uniformed one eyeing him from across the room. Chris looks to be in no rush to vacate the premises. Leland recovers with a smile. "If you like. I could give you an executive summary of all I've been up to, but then I'd have to kill you."

Chris chuckles. Leland lets him.

He's only half joking.

"Something on your mind?"

This is how it was for them, years ago, when they were two bright-eyed idiots full of hope and no idea of how Starfleet actually operates. Chris could always march into a the seediest bars and make friends with the unlikeliest lowlifes, but it was Leland who got them out, who punctured the bubble of tension with a misbegotten gun or a well-timed blow. In those days, getting in and out of trouble was exhilarating, was everything.

They're older now, the gray at Chris's temples lending him gravitas, the quirk of a smile in the corner of his mouth still so goddamn distracting.

"I did say we'd talk about it. I'm a man of my word."

Leland inclines his head toward the door. "You mean you didn't say your piece in front of the admiral? Christopher. You surprise me."

There's maybe ten feet between them. Leland's ready room isn't as lavish as some he's seen on average Starfleet vessels, but then he's not the average Starfleet captain. If he was, he'd keep his distance, usher Chris on his way so they can continue trailing Spock on this wild goose chase. He doesn't, because Chris is right there, still leaning against the bulkhead, head cocked to the side, three seconds away from saying _dare you_.

Decades out of fashion and Leland still falls for it. He stands too close even as he knows it won't intimidate Chris. He wants to touch so badly his hands twitch at his sides. He could control the impulse if he wanted to.

He doesn't.

"It was a stupid plan."

A look of hurt flashes briefly onto Chris's features. "Ouch."

"It was a stupid plan," Leland repeats, because you don't play a player, "but I would've stepped in if I thought you couldn't handle it." Hypotheticals bore him and repairs on the Discovery won't take forever. That's as good an excuse as any for why he doesn't wait for Chris to lean forward, why he press him into the bulkhead with a harsh kiss. Why he feels the need to muss that perfectly styled hair with hands that will never be completely clean, even if he wanted to mend his ways.

Chris is startled enough to gasp into the kiss, but he catches on quickly, grasping Leland's uniform and hauling him closer. The kiss is awkward for an instant before they find their rhythm. Just like before. Chris yields first, not at all grudging about it, and huffs out a laugh when Leland rewards him by grinding against his body. His fingers clench reflexively at Leland's waist because he's too much of gentleman to palm his ass.

Lucky for everyone involved, Leland isn't.

His knees hit the floor two seconds later, a couple of dull thuds followed by the rasp of clothing and harsh breaths.

"Leland-" Chris cuts himself off with a groan and lets his head thump against the bulkhead. He was quiet at the Academy, too, moans muffled into a pillow, into his fist, into Leland's shoulder. Getting him to cry out was a challenge Leland once reveled in. Still is.

He works him fast. They don't have a lot of time before Chris's absence will be noticed, before someone'll come looking for him. It's no skin off his back if people suspect his extracurricular activities, but he doesn't want this known. He wants Chris for himself, his own dirty little secret. Except being on his knees in front of him, looking up as Chris swears with such fondness and whispers his name like it's holy - that doesn't feel dirty. Leland curls his tongue around him and sucks hard, and in no time Chris is shuddering and clutching his shoulders to hold himself upright.

It's a pretty sight. The rush of power that comes with feeling him tremble with every perfunctory lick? Even better. Leland stands, wipes his mouth with the back of a hand, and kisses Chris sweetly, gently. Lets him taste himself on Leland's lips. "You should go."

Chris sways toward him, flushed, his eyes bright. "What about you?"

There's a split second where Leland misunderstands. His place is here. He has his own ship, his own command. But the instinct to follow Chris wherever he leads is alive and well, and completely unfashionable.

Besides, Chris isn't dragging him to a shitty watering hole. He's always been a boy scout. He wants to return the favor.

"I'm good," Leland says, tucking him back into his uniform. As appealing as the thought of sending Captain Pike back to his crew with his dick hanging out might be, Leland is a man of strategy and planning, and no strategy or plan will be served by making a fool of his old friend. His own pants feel tight, uncomfortably so, but he'll deal with that later. He steps away before the slightly incredulous warmth in Chris's eyes can make him reconsider. "I'll be in touch."

"Is that a promise?" Chris tugs a hand through his hair. Two quick strokes and it's mostly back in place, the pink in his cheeks already fading.

Leland stands ten feet away, gripping the edge of his desk. His hands are steady. He can still taste Chris on his tongue. Both of these things are true.

Silence stretches between them for a beat. Two.

Chris shoots him a knowing look, the corner of his lips twitching up as he hits the chevron on his chest with two fingertips. "Discovery, one to beam back." He's still looking at Leland as he disappears in a flash of gold, into nothing at all.


End file.
